


All Your Fault

by Enchant



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Bath Sex, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bubble Bath, Declarations Of Love, Doctor/Patient, Evolving romance, Fight Sex, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Hate Sex, Hawke death, Hurt/Comfort, Kinky, Lyrium Fisting, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Massage, Not The Champion, Playful Sex, Prostate Massage, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Sex on the ground, So did her Countess of Kink, Teasing, The Queen of Smut Beta'd This
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchant/pseuds/Enchant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is dead. Killed by the Arishok. Fenris and Anders blame one another for his death. They come to blows and 'sort through' their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Realisation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnabelleHawke02282012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnabelleHawke02282012/gifts).



> This is a gift fic for the lovely Samm, for being a wonderful friend and a constant reviewer of my works! Thank you, my dear! 
> 
> It is Fenders. It is a lot of smut. And it is delicious. It will be 4 chapters long - the smut is coming, I swear!

One step forward was all Fenris took, before freezing on the spot. The Arishok's blade was still cutting through the air, blood dripping from the tip, a smug smile spreading on his face at the sight of his opponent.  _Hawke_. Those bright eyes of his found Fenris', white with fear,  _real_  fear. His hand clutched at his neck, uselessly as blood sprayed past his fingers. Those wide eyes of his moved to the mage at Fenris' side, pleading, begging,  _scared._  The rogue fell to his knees and the mage finally found his feet, running forward with hands aglow just as Hawke slumped to the ground.

Noise faded, blocked out by the buzzing in his ears; the rush of blood. His eyes were fixed on the body on the ground, a fierce blue glow surrounding him as the mage tried, desperately, to heal Luca's slit neck. Lightning arced out of the mage's fingers; Hawke's body arched off of the ground, only to slump back down, still lifeless.

Fenris' feet were moving again, only stopping when they reached the blood soaked carpet at Luca's side. His life's blood was already cold under his feet. Hawke's body arched again as lightning coursed across his body; the mage was sweating, gritting his teeth, but Hawke remained unmoving, unbreathing.

Hawke was dead, he realised with perfect clarity.

He dropped to his knees, just as Hawke had, and stared at those glazed over tawny eyes of his. It was  _wrong_. Those eyes were usually so full of life and mischief, now they were – now they were dull, cold,  _dead._

He couldn't be dead, Hawke couldn't  _die_.

Not Hawke. He  _always_  had a way out, something up his sleeve or a dirty trick. He had been so eager to do this duel, Fenris had been so  _sure_. Ice had settled in Fenris' heart and it laced through his chest with every shallow breath he took, stabbing him. He had been the one to suggest the duel. He had  _thought_  –

No. He couldn't be gone. His eyes snapped up to the mage, the abomination. Angry words left his mouth, telling him to do whatever was necessary. Amber eyes flared blue and words were shot back at him, the demon adding a deep timbre to the mage's voice. And then the voice was cracking, the glow was gone and the abomination was sobbing over Luca's corpse, clutching blood soaked armour.

He watched, almost as if time had slowed, as Isabela was dragged out of the room by the Qunari, kicking and screaming. Tears fell from her eyes as she tried to reach Hawke's side, dusky fingers reaching out toward the lifeless corpse of the man she had betrayed, of the man who had fought for her,  _died_  for her. Fenris clenched his fists and then Isabela's wails were cut off by a blow to her head. Before she could flop to the ground a Qunari scooped her up and swung her over his shoulder before leaving the Keep with the rest.

Varric was on his hands and knees, Bianca discarded on the ground in front of him as he sobbed. The blood mage hugged his back, openly crying, her lip split from some blow she had taken to the face. Aveline's voice rang out, shaky orders leaving her quivering lips.

A shriek pierced the room, sharp and painful over the blood still rushing through his ears.  _Bethany_. Her steps faltered, a trembling hand over her mouth. Her head shook, the word 'no' like a chant on her lips. She rushed forward, falling to her knees at her brother's side. She gripped Luca's cold hand with both of hers, sobs, pleas, cries, leaving her mouth. The abomination wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his chest; she struggled and screamed against him, before letting her sobs free as she cried into his chest.

Fenris stared down at Luca, at the clean cut straight across his neck, deep, almost enough to sever his head from his body. One blood soaked hand was on his chest where his sister had dropped it, the other at his side, resting on the blood soaked ground. So much blood. Red was Hawke's favourite colour and now he was painted in it. Fenris gripped the red piece of fabric around his wrist, fingering the soft material as sharp pain cut through his chest once again.

He needed to get away.

Hawke was dead.

The man he loved, was dead.

He ran.

* * *

 

He clung to the sobbing mage, barely holding it together himself. His eyes were locked on Luca's dead amber ones. He couldn't bear to look at them a moment longer, seeing them so lifeless, so emotionless. He reached out with a trembling arm and closed his eyes, squeezing his own shut as he pulled Bethany a little closer, desperate to feel her warmth, he was so very  _cold_.

Hawke had been right there, just moments ago, smiling smugly as his dagger nicked the Arishok's side. And then he hadn't stepped back enough, had misjudged, mistimed. The  _blood_ , oh Maker, there had been so much, too much and  _then_  –

Those eyes. Those eyes had been so shocked, so scared. They had turned in his direction and  _pleaded_ with him, begged him for healing as blood spurted out of his neck. And Hawke had realised. Had known. He was dead. He had lost. He had failed all of these people. And there was  _nothing_  Anders could do to save him. He was gone before he hit the ground.

So why did he feel like it was his fault?

He had all of this power, he had a  _Fade_  spirit at his disposal, but it wasn't  _enough._

Gauntleted hands suddenly gripped the mage in his arms, pulling her off of him. She wailed, struggled in their grip.  _Templars_. Justice raged inside of him, burning bright enough that he was sure his skin was nearly cracking and then there was a steely hand gripping his own shoulder.  _Aveline_. A stern look, a warning.  _Not now._   _Not here._  Justice subsided, and Cullen gave him a small sympathetic nod before his men dragged Bethany's crying form away.

For the briefest of seconds he realised they  _should_  be dragging him away too. Then Varric was at his side, ushering him out of the Keep. Merrill was with them, hands clasped nervously at her front. Her face, dusty and caked in blood from battle, had clean lines down her cheeks from her tears. She sniffed, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the ground, lip trembling.

He didn't pay attention to the panicked people on the streets, or the fires still burning, filling the air with smoke, he ignored the corpses littering the ground too. Merrill left, returning to her home, and then they were at the Hanged Man, sat at a table, a drink in his hand with a blanket draped over his shoulders.

Varric sat at his desk, journal open, quill in hand. The dwarf looked over at him, eyes red and puffy. "Hawke would want me to tell this story –  _his_ story. But for once I'm at a loss for words, Blondie."

Anders fought back more tears, taking a few moments to swallow the lump in his throat. "Tell the truth," he finally replied, his voice raw. "Just this one time, tell the truth, Varric."

Varric let out a long exhale and nodded. "I can't believe he's gone. Legends don't die, that's why they're legends… this just doesn't seem real."

Anders stared at the flames flickering away in front of him; he felt no warmth from them, only a twisted kind of sadness. The flames were the colour of Hawke's eyes. "I failed him," he mumbled. "I was his healer. He looked to  _me,_ pleaded with  _me,"_ the words spilled from his mouth, laced with anger and bitterness. "He expected me to  _save_  him…" his voice failed him and the tears fell down his face once more.

Varric sighed heavily and swivelled in his seat to face him. "It wasn't your fault, Blondie. It was those  _damn_  horn-heads and Rivaini…" He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "They just took her, knocked her out and dragged her away." He swallowed thickly. "What do you think they'll do to her?"

Anders stared at the ground, shivering despite the fire. "I don't know, Varric. I just don't know."

Varric leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. "What do we do now?" he asked, clearly defeated and lost.

Anders shook his head, but then felt an overwhelming need to do  _something_. Perhaps it was Justice influencing his thoughts, perhaps he just needed the distraction. "I'm going to the clinic," he said as he rose to his feet, shrugging off the blanket around his shoulders.

"Whoa, is that wise, Blondie? The nobles saw you use magic, the Templars…"

"And they didn't drag me to the Gallows," Anders said, cutting him off. "If they were going to they would have by now." He looked at the dwarf. "I have to do something, Varric. I have to help something, save someone,  _anyone_."

"You've done enough today… you should rest."

"I won't sleep, Varric, not after today."

He left the dwarf and the Hanged Man and rushed through the streets of Lowtown. This time he  _did_  notice the panicked people, the still-burning fires and the corpses piled up along the edges of the streets, covered with odd pieces of fabric, broken boards of wood…whatever people could find to give them some semblance of respect.

There was so much destruction, so much death, and yet, somehow, all of that paled in comparison to  _one_  man. Hawke had been… Hawke was… Luca was unique. There was no other word for him. He was selfless, caring beyond belief and so full of life. It took a lot to wipe that grin off of his face, to dim the light in his eyes… He touched so many lives,  _changed_  so many lives. He had become the glue holding so many pieces together, without him…

Anders shuddered and pressed forward through Darktown, through the crowds of desperate people crying out for help.

He didn't make it to his clinic for a long time; too many people stopped him on his way there, recognising him as the healer. By the time he did reach the clinic, and dealt with the endless queues of patients, he was dead on his feet. He managed to make it to the cot at the back of his clinic before collapsing, and finally let the Fade take him, grateful that he would at least find some sort of sleep.

* * *

 

The bottle smashed into the wall, glass shattering, and the deep red wine sprayed outward, it looked like blood. His favourite wine had no taste without Hawke to share it with. His mansion was colder without Hawke's smile to warm it. Everything seemed greyer now without Hawke's joyfulness to cheer it.

It was all just  _bland_.

He had seen countless deaths in his life; he had  _caused_  countless deaths too. But  _this_ , this was beyond anything he had felt before. His body ached like his own life force was slowly being drained from him. There seemed little point in fighting it either, he  _wanted_  it to slowly ebb away until there was nothing left of him. Already he felt like a shell of his former self, not that there had been much substance to him before. Hatred. Cowardice. Fear. Hawke had made him better, a better man. But Hawke was  _gone._

He couldn't quite see what the point of anything was anymore.

What would they all do now? Hawke had been their connection, the only reason anybody in their group were friends, the only reason they had all stuck together. Without him…

He threw another bottle.

_Venhedis!_

He couldn't be  _dead_. Not Hawke.

Hawke never failed to find a way out, to figure something out. And if he didn't then he  _always_  got healed. His hands clenched at his sides. The abomination…  _he_  was supposed to protect him,  _he_  was supposed to heal him,  _he_  was supposed to save him!

This was  _his_  fault. He could have done more but he was too concerned about being taken away by the Templars, too afraid they would see what he really was. He didn't call upon that demon of his, didn't use everything at his disposal to bring Hawke  _back_.

He was at the steps to Lowtown before he even realised he had left the mansion. Everything was a little fuzzy from the alcohol he had consumed but the one clear thing in his mind was the abomination… he would  _suffer_.

* * *

 

Anders watched the runny liquid swirling endlessly around the small jar as he stirred it for the… he didn't even  _know_  how many times he had stirred it now. He couldn't seem to stop though, he needed to make sure it was right; lives depended upon it.

He  _couldn't_  fail again.

" _It was not your—"_

"Don't," he said, cutting the spirit off. "Just don't," he sighed.

" _You were not the one to suggest the duel,"_ Justice reminded him.

Anders ceased his stirring and began to frown. The spirit was right…it was that  _elf_. He had suggested it, pushed for it,  _encouraged_  it even. Luca would  _never_  have turned down something like that; he was too proud, too arrogant, and ever since Leandra's death Hawke had done whatever the elf had wanted, always keeping him at his side.

Anders' fists clenched on the table. This was  _all_  that blasted elf's fault!

He rose to his feet in a rush and charged toward the door; he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he needed to take action, he needed that elf to know what he had done, he needed that elf to  _hurt_  the way Anders was hurting now.

He swung his clinic door open and gasped as Fenris came to an abrupt halt just a foot away. They both stared at each other for a moment, eyes narrowed, jaws clenched.

"It's your fault!" they both roared in unison, anger rolling off of them in droves.

" _My_  fault?" they both cried. "How is it my fault?" they both hissed before growling, glaring daggers at each other. They both folded and then immediately unfolded their arms. Instead Fenris kept his clenched at his side and Anders placed his on his hips.

"It was you who suggested the duel in the first place!" Anders sniped.

"The Arishok would have suggested such a thing anyway!  _You're_  the healer!" Fenris snarled at him, advancing on the abomination, " _You_  were supposed to save him!"

"I  _couldn't_. That blade damn near took his head clean off! He was dead before he hit the ground. I tried bringing him back but he had lost too much blood. There was nothing I could have done," Anders spat back.

"You could have used that demon of –"

Anders slapped him hard across the face and the elf's head whipped back, white hair swaying with it. Anders' hand remained fixed mid-air, just as shocked as the elf at his rash action.

"He is  _not_  a demon," Anders growled.

Slowly the elf's head returned to face him, his lips curled in disgust. Fenris took a hostile step forward and another, forcing Anders to back up into his clinic. "Whatever!  _It_  could have been used to save Hawke," Fenris replied in a harsh whisper. The elf turned and closed the door, bolting it before turning his attention back to Anders. "You did not do everything you could have.  _You_  did not try hard enough. Hawke was counting on you and it was  _you_  who failed him."

Anders held his ground, refusing to back up any further. "You  _knew_  Hawke would accept that duel, you also knew he was injured and exhausted from the day's fighting. I tried to stop him from doing it but you shut me up, told me he could handle it. We could have battled the Qunari together, there may have been other deaths but Hawke might still be with us!  _You_  are the only one to blame here, Fenris!"

"He would  _never_  have allowed such a thing! It doesn't change the fact that your  _demon_  didn't help you save him. Or did you hold him back because you didn't want all of those nobles to see what you really are?"

"How  _dare_  you! I did everything I could to save Hawke! I would have died for him I love—" He slammed his lips shut and frowned.

Fenris snarled at him. "You think you are the only one who  _cared_  for Luca, abomination?"

Anders glared at him. "Don't call me that."

Fenris let out a bitter laugh. "Or what,  _abomination_?"

Anders let out a scream as he tackled the elf to the ground, surprising both of them. He landed one solid blow to the elf's lip before the elf grabbed his fist, stopping it connecting a second time, and suddenly flipped him onto his back. Anders hit the ground with a grunt and the elf pinned him in place.

They were both panting hard, both hot and sweaty and  _exhausted_. Fenris stared down at him, those huge green eyes of his narrowed and boring into him, framed by long snowy hair and those dark brows knitted together into a frown. Their hands were still locked together; Anders' fist caged by Fenris' metallic talons.

Something changed in the atmosphere between them, Anders was suddenly  _very_  aware of how hot the elf felt, how hard the muscled limbs straddling him were, how dark those green eyes of his were getting. Anders could feel the elf's heart pounding away, even through the metal of his chest plate where Anders' hand was resting; it matched the thrumming in his own chest.

Anders' fist unclenched and his fingers entwined with Fenris' long dusky, lyrium lined digits. The elf watched in mute fascination as Anders began to run his thumb along a brand of his lyrium; it ignited immediately, making Anders' skin tingle and Fenris snarl from the contact.

Fenris' lip curled into a sneer as he leaned down, their faces almost touching, their panted breaths mixing. "You are as helpless now as you were in that Keep," he hissed through his teeth. "You are nothing but a coward. Always afraid of capture. You could do nothing for the man you  _claim_  to love," he scoffed. "Look at you, a  _mighty_  mage whose powers are to be  _feared_ ," he mocked. "You are weak, you have always been  _we_ —"

Anders grabbed the elf's snowy hair and yanked him down into a scorching kiss; his tongue pushed past all of the elf's defences to delve deep into his mouth. Fenris tasted of that rich, fruity wine he favoured, and his lips were surprisingly soft. Anders took advantage of the elf's startled confusion and dug his leg between the elf's and forced his body off of him, dumping the warrior face down onto the dirt ground. He straddled the elf, sitting on the backs of his thighs, holding him in place.

Anders leaned over the elf, pressing his chest flat against the elf's back. He breathed against the elf's pointed ear and Fenris squirmed under him. "I'll show you why mages are feared," he hissed, making Fenris shudder.


	2. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for leaving kudos and bookmarking! Here is part 2, lots of hatey, angry, taunty, griefy goodness (I know those aren't words..shhh.) 
> 
> Enjoy and don't be afraid to leave a comment.

His tongue flicked across the elf’s delicate lobe, and he smiled as Fenris moaned softly. He drew the lobe into his mouth and suckled on it gently, pulling a gasp from Fenris’ mouth when he nipped on it playfully. Anders’ tongue rolled up the shell of the elf’s pointed ear, relishing the groaning, shivering elf underneath him. He took the tip of the elf’s ear deep into his mouth and sucked on it; he smiled smugly at the noises coming out of Fenris’ mouth and the way the elf’s body went rigid before melting under his ministrations.

Anders tugged on the elf’s waistband, pulling down his leathers and the elf let out a rumbling growl in his throat which was soon turned to a mewl of want as Anders’ tongue dipped into his ear canal and swirled around the sensitive skin. Anders shifted positions slightly so his hand could roam over the elf’s bared ass, pinching and squeezing the supple flesh. He licked his fingers slowly until they were slick with his saliva and then rubbed the elf right down the crack of his pert little ass; Fenris’ back arched and he groaned loudly, head falling forward. Anders bit down on the pulse point in his neck as he slipped a finger into the elf’s tight passage. Fenris groaned, squirming as he arched his hips, drawing Anders’ finger further into him. He removed his hand and grabbed the potion he had been stirring from his table and lathered his cock in it before positioning himself behind the elf.

In one quick, brutal thrust he was buried inside of the elf; they both cried out, Fenris from the pain of his entry and Anders from the tightness now constricting his cock. He panted raggedly over the elf and then with great effort began to move.

“Is this how your master fucked you, elf?” Anders taunted as he pounded into him; Fenris let out a strangled growl in response. “You like this, don’t you? Being someone else’s little bitch. You’re _my_ little wolf now,” he panted, Fenris was _so_ tight, _too_ tight, it was actually painful. Fenris rocked his hips back, greeting his every thrust with a snarl on his lips.

They shifted positions slightly so the elf was more on his knees, and Anders grabbed hold of his hair, pulling him upright as he continued to thrust deep into that tight, hot passage. The elf’s lyrium brands lit up, casting them in an unnatural blue glow as they both panted and groaned with each stroke. Fenris’ hand gripped his dusky erection and he began to pump away at himself as Anders smashed into his ass, the slapping of flesh on flesh loud in his empty clinic.

A shiver arced down his back as his balls tightened and he felt the elf tense in front of him, his tight channel clamping down on Anders’ throbbing and swelling cock. Anders unleashed a blast of electricity that leapt up the elf’s spine and they both hissed as they came; the pain and the pleasure of it both excruciating and blissful.

They collapsed to the ground together and Fenris cried out as Anders pulled out of him and flopped to the ground next to him, gasping for breath.

Fenris glanced over at him, his dark green eyes obscured by his snowy hair. His lips curled in disgust. “Use your magic on my again, mage, and I will rip off your cock!”

Anders smirked. “You mean like this?” He shot a spark at the elf’s ribs and Fenris cried out. The elf growled and moved faster than Anders thought possible, leaning over him and pinning him to the ground. The elf’s panted breaths were hot on his face as Fenris pressed himself closer to Anders.

“Exactly like that,” he growled.

One of the elf’s hands moved down Anders’ torso while the other stayed holding both of his wrists above his head. Fenris’ markings lit up a bright blue and Anders had time to yelp before the hand disappeared through his skin and tightened around the root of his cock. A combination of a cry, a hiss and a groan escaped his lips as his body tensed at the alien feeling of Fenris’ hand tightening around his insides.

“I warned you,” he whispered harshly.

Fenris’ hand shifted and Anders groaned as the lyrium fist rubbed against his prostate. His whole body shuddered and his cock went rock hard again; Fenris stared down at him with that infernal eyebrow of his arched. The elf flexed his phased fingers again and Anders cried out, back arching off of the hard ground.

“Maker, Fenris,” he panted, making the elf smirk. _Uh-oh._ The elf moved his hand directly over that sweet spot and began to clench and unclench his fingers around it, each time Anders shuddered violently, the lyrium reacting to his body as pleasure surged through him in a rush. He was completely at the elf’s mercy and Fenris knew it.

It didn’t take long for him to come again, roaring with his release as his thick, hot cream sprayed all over his stomach. He barely had time to catch his breath before his legs were being hoisted over the elf’s shoulders and a long hard cock was rammed into him. He screamed but Fenris clamped a hand shut over his mouth as he hissed for him to be quiet. Anders bit down on the dusky fingers and Fenris growled in annoyance before pulling back and plunging back into him savagely.

“This is what you wanted with him, wasn’t it?” Fenris taunted through his brutal thrusts. “You wanted Hawke buried inside of you, fucking you to within an inch of your life.” Anders turned his face away from the elf, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to hear his words, even as his cock re-hardened at the thought of Hawke inside of him. “You wanted to feel that hard body of his, see those bright eyes darken, hear his ragged breaths.” Anders shuddered at the thought before tears sprang to his eyes. Hawke was dead. He was gone…“Admit it,” Fenris hissed through a particularly rough thrust. Anders’ chin was grabbed firmly and turned so that he had no choice but to stare up at the panting elf still ploughing into him.

“Yes,” he whispered barely audibly.

The elf’s lip curled slightly. “Louder,” he grunted, his voice strained.

“Yes,” Anders bit out. “I wanted that. I wanted him! Is that what you wanted to hear, you vicious brute? I was jealous that you had even that one night with him; I didn’t understand how he could pick _you_ of all people,” he said, his voice cracking as his eyes flooded with tears. “I loved him,” he sobbed. “And now I’ll never get to tell him that. I’ll never see him again, never be near him again.” A whimper left his lips and the tears fell from his eyes. The elf above him stopped his thrusts and stared at him. Anders turned his face away, utterly ashamed.

“I loved him too,” Fenris whispered, his voice cracking. Anders stared up at him, his lips parted in surprise.

“Then… _why_ did you leave him?” he asked, his voice raw.

Fenris sighed and let Anders’ legs fall from his shoulders; he winced at the change in position. “I was a coward and a fool,” Fenris admitted ruefully, lip curled in disgust.

Anders frowned as he stared up at the elf, trying to get a better look at the face hidden under white hair. “Did he know?” Fenris turned his head to the side, dark brows tied together. “Did Luca know that you loved him?” Anders clarified.

The elf’s lip trembled ever so slightly and he let out a shaky breath. “No, I don’t think he did.”

Anders felt a pang of guilt, of empathy. He lifted his hand and brushed the elf’s cheek, catching a tear just as it fell from the elf’s eye; Fenris’ head jerked away and he sighed. “I left him. We never talked about it. I couldn’t. I didn’t know _how_ ,” Fenris said in a rush, his voice shakier than he had ever heard it before.

Anders swallowed thickly. “We were both fools,” he muttered. “I can’t believe he’s just… _gone_.” He frowned, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem real.”

Those green eyes peered at him. “Nothing about Hawke seemed real; he was…”

“Hawke. He was Hawke.”

The edge of the elf’s lip curved ever so slightly as he nodded. Anders stared down at where Fenris was still buried in him and bucked his hips upwards. “So, you gonna continue, or what, elf?”

That time Fenris did smirk, he pulled back only to sheath himself to the hilt once more; Anders lifted his hips and wrapped his legs around the elf’s slender waist as he moaned. Hot lips closed over his own and he sighed into Fenris’ mouth, allowing a curious tongue to explore lazily around his mouth, to wrap around his tongue and lick his lips. His hands slid up the elf’s back, lighting up the lyrium along the way until he buried his fingers in the elf’s snowy hair, drawing Fenris closer to him. The warrior’s thrusts were slower, gentler, and tenderer now. _This_ is how he had imagined it would have been with Hawke. Making _love_. It was not something he had ever done before, not that _this_ was love… but it was a lot different from anything he had experienced in the Circle, or after.

He let sparks fly from his fingers to knead the elf’s scalp and tingle across the nape of his neck, Fenris shuddered, groaning throatily into his mouth. “Again,” he breathed against Anders’ lips, and so, he let more sparks fly down the elf’s spine, igniting the lyrium anew. Fenris’ back arched, his head fell back and he cried out in ecstasy. Anders’ breath hitched; Fenris looked so beautiful like that, he looked _free_. Free of his past, free of slavery, free of his worries and fears, it was incredible to see.

Anders gasped as a glowing, lyrium lined hand wrapped around his cock and pumped. He could feel the Fade buzz and crack around him and gooseflesh broke out across his skin. They moved together, sparks flying, lyrium lined skin glowing, Fenris’ hand pumping Anders’ cock as the elf continued to thrust into him, making them both shudder and pant at their impending climax.

Anders came first, crying out in ecstasy, his seed spurting over his stomach once again as his tight passage clamped down hard on the elf’s long rod, driving Fenris over the edge too.

They collapsed onto the ground, limbs entwined and breathing hard. Anders stroked the elf’s hair as Fenris nuzzled his neck. They stayed like that for some time, neither wanting to move. Tears falling freely from both of their eyes as they finally let their grief overwhelm them.

Much later, Fenris shifted and slowly pulled out of Anders, despite this, he still winced.

“You’re in pain,” Fenris stated, looking a little worried.

Anders smirked. “I’m a mage, I’ll cope,” he said as he let out a wave of healing magic, sighing softly from the soothing sensation. “Are you hurt?”

Fenris shook his head and rose to his feet, stretching his limbs. Anders stared up at him, enjoying the view; Fenris had to be the most attractive elf he had ever seen, and he was _more_ impressive naked, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, his sinuous white markings still throbbing slightly in time with his heartbeat, casting the sharp features of his face in that eerie blue glow.

Fenris dressed quickly and Anders did the same, both of them remaining silent. This was that awkward _we just had sex, now what?_ stage.

Andraste’s flaming knicker-weasels. He had just _fucked_ Fenris and then they had both started _crying_. Maker, but that was embarrassing. At least they weren’t trying to kill each other anymore – actually, most of his anger was entirely _gone_. He just felt hollow now, empty, alone, and _not_ because he was no longer stuffed full with a cock either.

Fenris rubbed the back of his neck and their eyes met, both of them blushing and looking away. “What…” Fenris started then had to clear his throat before continuing. “What happens now?” he finally managed, and Anders raised an inquisitive eyebrow, making the elf turn crimson. “Without Hawke, I mean,” he clarified as he once again cleared his throat.

Anders shook his head. He had no answers to that particular question. “He was the reason we all met… without him I’m not sure what will happen…” He shrugged. “There will still be our game night at the Hanged Man – maybe; Hawke sodding loved that game even though he was rubbish at it.”

Fenris smiled, a sad little smile, and nodded before heading for the door; he paused in the doorway for the briefest of moments, perhaps about to say more before he shook his head and disappeared into the depths of Darktown. Anders flopped back into his only chair with a heavy sigh but he couldn’t help but smile. His first proper smile since the Qunari had attacked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Shadowfire_RavenPheonix for going through this, helping with it and just generally being awesome.   
> And thank you Hatsepsut for your comments and suggestions too, my dear! Love you both. 
> 
> Next chapter will be up soon, some time this week. It will be more teasy than this one. ;)


	3. Tease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to Shasdowfire_RavenPheonix and Hatsepsut once again for their wonderful beta work on this! 
> 
> A much more light hearted chapter this time! Enjoy!

Fenris closed the door behind Donnic and Aveline, wishing them well. The past month had been… difficult. His grief was still like a physical thing, heavy on his chest but he was no longer sick with rage, or blinded by the pain of it all. He was alive. He existed. He saw the others from time to time – mostly at the weekly card game they still held in Luca’s honour. But he was not truly _living_. They were all trying to figure out how to do that still without Hawke to lead them, to guide them and bind them together. It was true, Varric always had a few jobs lined up for them, Aveline too, but mostly they just focused on getting through each day.

Fenris had wanted to leave the city. He had wanted to flee, to get away. It was too painful to remain here when _everything_ reminded him of Luca. He saw him on the street corners, grinning, leant against the wall waiting for him before they headed to the Hanged Man together. He heard his laughter fill the evening air as the sun set as they all traipsed _back_ to the Hanged Man after a job. There were few places in the city that Luca hadn’t breathed life into and that only made it harder to stay. On more than one occasion Fenris had physically staggered when he thought he heard Luca’s chuckle, or thought he saw him in the crowd, giving him a lopsided smile. But it was the fact that Luca lingered in the city that made it so hard to _leave_ as well. Fenris dreaded the day when he could no longer see him standing on that street corner, or when he forgot what Hawke’s laugh sounded like. And so he remained, feeling like half a ghost himself.

A knock, came at the door then; Fenris thought it was Aveline and Donnic again – he briefly looked around to see if they had forgotten something but couldn’t see anything. He opened the door and it was… Anders. The mage was standing there, blushing slightly. Fenris had not seen him for a month. Not since… that day. The mage rubbed the back of his neck.

“May I come in?”

Fenris frowned. “Why?”

Anders sighed. “Do you have to make everything so bloody difficult all of the time?”

The lightest of hint of a smirk lifted his cheek. “Perhaps I enjoy it.”

“Sadistic bastard,” Anders muttered under his breath, causing the elf to _really_ smirk. “Look I…” He sighed again. “Can I come in, I just… I want to talk.”

Fenris took a step back, opening the door for him; the mage swept in and glanced around the mansion’s entrance hall as Fenris closed the door behind him, eyeing him warily.

“It hasn’t changed at all,” the mage commented. He was there the first night. The night they took his place back from the demons that lay in wait for them.

“Did you expect me to redecorate?”

Anders snorted. “Well… no. But there are still bodies and piles of ash on the ground! That there is a scorch mark from one of my fireballs! I thought you might have _cleaned_.”

Fenris shrugged a shoulder. “I hardly see how it matters to you.”

Anders sighed and then went quiet again. He looked thinner; his robes were hanging off of his already lean frame. He remembered how Hawke used to bring Anders gift baskets each day – mostly containing food – in hopes that the mage would remember to eat. Fool mage probably wasn’t eating without Hawke there to mother him. Maker knows Fenris wasn’t. For the first week or two he was certain his blood was half wine with the amount he had drunk each day.

“I wanted to apologise,” the mage finally said, looking at him directly, his tone serious. Fenris arched a brow at him. “For blaming you, I mean. It… it _wasn’t_ your fault.” He exhaled sharply. “I was… I was just _so_ angry at myself. And then you were _right_ there. I know we haven’t always gotten along,” he said wirily, smirking slightly and Fenris snorted. “But you didn’t deserve my anger. So there. I’m sorry, Fenris.”

Fenris nodded as he contemplated the mages words. “Fair enough.”

Anders’ eyebrows shot up into his hair, his mouth parting slightly. “ _Fair enough?_ I just – ugh! You’re infuriating!”

He arched both of his brows. “ _I_ am infuriating?”

“Yes! I just said all of –“ The mage’s hands flapped dramatically and he struggled to articulate himself, “of _that_ and you only say _fair enough_ back! Don’t you have anything to say?”

Fenris folded his arms. “Not particularly.”

Anders threw his arms into the air as he paced, cursing obscenities about Andraste and weasels. Fenris caught himself smirking once again as he watched the flustered mage.

Anders whirled on him. “Aren’t you sorry for what you said to me, _at all_?” there was hurt in his voice and Fenris clenched his jaw.

“You are too emotional,” he groused.

Anders’ eyes widened. “Too _emotional!_ ” he cried incredulously. “Because I have _feelings_ I am suddenly too emotional, am I?” Fenris shrugged a shoulder. “And I suppose that drinking yourself into oblivion is _so_ stoic and manly, right?”

Fenris snorted. “What I do in my spare time does not concern you, mage.”

“Fine then. I’ll just leave, shall I?”

“You are aware of where the door is.” He turned and walked away, wincing slightly at the pulled muscle in his leg; he had foolishly gone out the other night -drunk- to fight off a gang hiding in wait for some nobles. He had overstepped during one of his wide swings and had pulled the muscle.

“You’re hurt.”

He stopped mid-stride, a sinking feeling coming over him. “It is nothing. Leave.”

“Let me take a look.”

He turned around to face the healer, scowling. “No.”

Anders rolled his eyes. “If this is an injury because of something I did to you on –“

“It isn’t,” Fenris said, cutting him off even as he blushed slightly.

“Then what is it?”

“Like I said, it is nothing.”

“I’d feel better if you’d let me look at it.”

“More emotions, mage?”

Anders smiled. “Yes, I’ll cry again if you don’t let me at least check.”

Fenris glared at him.

“Come on, it’ll take a few seconds at most.”

With a heavy sigh he nodded and headed toward the old dusty dining room. He ducked under the cobwebs covering much of the doorway and then pulled out one of the cushioned chairs, sitting down with a huff.

“You are very grumpy for someone who is supposed to be unemotional, you know,” Anders teased as he knelt down in front of him. Fenris just rolled his eyes. “Now, what seems to be the problem? You have a limp… Is it your feet? You know I still have no idea how you and Merrill walk around bare foot in this city! There’s broken glass everywhere, shit and stones and piss and Maker only knows what else littering the ground.”

“It is not my foot.”

“Okaaay then. Knee?” Anders tilted his head to the side as he tried to examine the joint without touching him. “Hmm, it looks normal to me.”

“It is not that either.”

Anders looked up at him. “I thought you wanted me to leave? If you simply _told_ me what the problem was this entire situation would end much sooner.”

Fenris shifted in his seat. He wanted the mage to leave, certainly, but he did not want to be examined either, especially not _there_. He was worried that… well after last time… he was worried how he might react.

“Fenris?” the mage was staring up at him expectantly.

“It’smygroin,” he mumbled.

Anders arched an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Fenris groaned. “My groin. The muscle, I pulled it.” Judging by the heat, his cheeks were definitely a rosy pink now.

Something changed in the mage’s demeanour, his eyes darkened slightly and he began to smirk.

“It is _not_ funny,” Fenris growled.

Anders cleared his throat. “Of course not, terrible sorry. It must be very painful, yes?” Fenris nodded. “I can heal it,” the mage said with a warm smile. “But I’m not going to.” He got back to his feet and walked away, leaving Fenris very surprised.

“Wait!” he called out, and then cringed out how needy he sounded.

Anders stopped but didn’t turn around.

Fenris ran a hand through his hair knowing exactly what the mage wanted to bloody hear.

“Please.” he said softly.

Anders turned back around. “Why should I?”

Fenris clenched his teeth. “Because you are a healer and you said you would heal it.”

“I said I would take a look at it, said I _could_ heal it. I did not say I _would_ ,” he stated smugly.

Fenris snarled at the infuriating man. “Leave then. I shall endure.” He got to his feet in a rush and then cried out in pain and fell to the ground with a hiss. Anders was suddenly at his side, an arm holding him up. They stared at each other, so close he could feel the mage’s breath on his cheek and the atmosphere around them shifted again, just as it had in the clinic. Fenris swallowed thickly as his heart felt like it might try to break out of his chest. He did not _want_ this, he did not _like_ this man, this _mage_ ; but his body betrayed him. His tongue slipped out, wetting his lips seconds before the mage’s mouth descended on his own, drawing out a rumbling groan from deep in his throat. The healer’s tongue pushed firmly passed his lips to take full advantage of his slightly opened mouth. He was momentarily lost to that dark, delicious taste and the sinful way the mage’s tongue moved through his mouth soft yet hard; cautious yet confident.

The mage nipped his lip and the flare of pain was enough to knock him out of his daze; he pushed the mage away with a hard shove. Anders stared at him a little perplexed before he cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not looking him in the eye. “I’ll heal that muscle now then leave.” Fenris nodded and shuffled back to lean against the wall, the mage came to sit next to him and started rubbing his hands together. “I need to use magic,” he warned, “ice then a healing spell and then finally rejuvenation.” Fenris nodded in understanding and then tensed slightly as Anders’ hands came to rest on his thigh, gripping firmly, kneading his flesh slightly. Fenris arched a brow at him when no magic was used. “Oh, I’m just warming up the muscle first,” the mage explained, Fenris could have sworn he saw the mage’ lips quirk in a small smirk, but the expression was gone too quickly for him to be certain it had eve even existed.

“You said you’re going to use ice, why warm it up?” Fenris inquired suspiciously.

Anders snorted. “Oh sorry, I thought _I_ was the healer here.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and folded his arms with a huff as the mage continued to rub his leg, moving slightly further up every few moments. His fingers were getting alarmingly near something _else_ and Fenris clenched and unclenched his fists. Anders’ ministrations became a little firmer, rubbing the flesh with more vigour; Fenris hissed as Anders’ finger brushed his cock. The mage acted as if it hadn’t happened so focused was he on massaging the tender muscle. Fenris glared at him, grudgingly giving him the benefit of the doubt that he hadn’t in fact done that on purpose. And then he did it _again!_

“Stop that,” Fenris hissed.

“Hm?” Anders asked absentmindedly, glancing up only briefly to look at him.

“Stop _that_.”

Anders frowned. “Stop _what_ , Fenris? I’m just making sure the muscle is loose enough that the ice won’t cause a cramp…” he said nonchalantly.

The mage went back to his “work” and all Fenris could do was glare at him.

“Time for the ice now,” Anders warned him.

Fenris lurched forward, half-hissing half-groaning as the ice-spell tore through his thigh, the cool air settling over his groin, making his cock jump and his balls constrict almost painfully. That time Anders _did_ smirk. Fenris snarled at him. “You did that on purpose, mage.”

Anders arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you actually complaining, elf?”

Fenris scowled at him. “Just heal the muscle so you can leave.”

Anders’ fingers ghosted over his cool skin, making him shiver as they continued casting the cooling spell. He used the lightest of touches upon his skin; a maddening, almost imperceptible touch on the numbed surface of his thigh that was all the more arousing in its intimacy compared to the stronger, firmer touch the healer had used when massaging the muscle.

The mage’s head was bent down as he concentrated on the spell. Occasionally he would flick his head, forcing his golden-red tresses out of his face; wafting the scent of herbs and ointments and something so very _Anders_ into Fenris’ sensitive nose, making his nostrils flare. He couldn’t help but drink in the scent, that slightly masculine but sweet aroma that he had smelled before when they had…

Damn the mage! He did _not_ want to be thinking of such things.

The mage’s tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips as his brow furrowed in concentration and then the mage’s hands lit up with a fierce yellow glow; flooding Fenris’ upper thigh with a completely new sensation. The potent magic of a rejuvenation spell poured over his injured muscle and the rest of Fenris’ pelvis with an unfocused, invigorating power. He threw his head back, gasping at the sudden shock of it as his cock sprang from half hard to fully throbbing and ready in a head-swimming rush. He growled in annoyance at the mage who was eyeing his erection with what could only be described as a smug smile.

“You sure you want me to leave?” he husked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Fenris snarled at him. “Finish. The. Job,” he ground out through his teeth.

Anders laughed, “And just _which_ job are you referring to, Fenris?” Fenris groaned in annoyance. “Your _pulled_ muscle?” The mage’s hand crept higher. “Or perhaps you’d prefer it if I pulled _this_ muscle?” He ran his slender healer’s fingers over Fenris’ now aching length, making him hiss and buck his hips into the mage’s touch.

“I think we have our answer,” chuckled the mage as his fingers tightened around his cock, drawing out a long throaty groan from the warrior.

Anders squeezed ever so slightly and watched as the elf’s head fell back against the wall once more, his chest heaving with both his frustration and his arousal. Anders’s thumb rubbed small circles along Fenris’ slender shaft and the elf let out the most beautiful moan as more colour flooded his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Anders nearly moaned himself at the sight of those ears turning a brilliant shade of pink, his mouth was watering and he wanted nothing more than to suck on the point until Fenris was a writhing, moaning, mess underneath him.

He leaned in slowly, watching as the elf tensed, until he came to a stop next to Fenris’ ear. He blew into the elf’s sensitive ear canal, letting his hot breath do most of the work for him; Fenris shuddered and his mouth fell open as he began to pant. Anders smiled, knowing his work was done; the elf was his.

He dipped his tongue into the elf’s canal and languidly circled his inner shell as his fingers began to unlace the elf’s leathers, taking advantage of the warrior’s distracted state. His tongue licked up the length of the elf’s pointed ear, just as Fenris’ cock sprang free of the restrictive garment. Anders took the tip of the warrior’s ear into his mouth and sucked as his hand squeezed around Fenris’ swollen cock. Fenris shuddered as he let out a guttural groan. Anders bobbed his head up and down on the point of the elf’s ear, swirling his tongue over the sensitive cartilage. He pulled back and licked down the sharp edge as his hand pumped once on the elf’s length.

“Mmm. I bet your cock is _aching_ right now, elf,” he hummed into Fenris’ ear.

Fenris growled, his chest heaving. “You have a wicked mouth, mage; you should put it to better use.”

Anders smiled against his ear. “Would you like that, Fenris? Would you like me to use my mouth on you? I could kiss it better,” he breathed into the elf’s ear. “I’m really _very_ good, you know.”

Fenris moaned and then his darkening green eyes locked onto Anders’. “Prove it.” Anders grinned smugly as he began very slowly unbuttoning Fenris’ shirt. “That is not necessary, mage,” Fenris groaned.

Anders gave him a crooked smile, still unbuttoning his shirt. “Healer knows best, you really are a _terrible_ patient, Fenris.”

“Is this how you treat all of your patients then, mage?” Fenris hissed.

“Well now, you’re hardly a patient anymore, are you?”

“Then it is not necessary. Get on with your _other_ job.”

“So impatient, so _stressed_ , perhaps we should give you a nice relaxing massage instead?”

“No!”

“Well _someone’s_ eager,” Anders chuckled.

Fenris’ knees fell open, giving Anders room to place himself between them. With one last glance up at Fenris’ lust-blown pupils Anders lowered his mouth to the swollen crown of the elf’s erection. The mage pressed his lips to the elf’s dusky, swollen head, planting the softest of kisses there, making Fenris shiver. His tongue darted out to lap up the single drop of Fenris’ pre-cum, savouring the bitter taste as he pulled back and licked his lips, looking up into Fenris’ dark, hooded eyes.

“Delicious,” Anders purred up at the elf. “You taste better than I imagined you would.”

“You… imagined what I tasted like?”

“After the clinic I could think of little else. I couldn’t stop picturing you with your back arched up in front of me as you cried out in ecstasy. All I could think was, Maker, I wonder if he tastes as delicious as he sounds. Didn’t you think about me?”

“Enough talk, mage,” Fenris said huskily, as he kicked his hips up toward Anders’ mouth even as he blushed to the roots of his snowy hair.

Anders smirked and gently reached forward cupping the smooth flesh of the elf's slightly engorged sack as he licked over the head again, watching as the elf’s bare toes curled into the dust and grime on the floor. They had barely started and already he had him squirming. The warrior’s responsiveness made the mage’s ego soar and he rushed forward to take more of that dusky length into his mouth, eager to see the elf come completely undone.

He sucked the dark mushroom shaped head into his mouth, letting his tongue slide across the dripping slit, relishing the shudder it sent up through the elf and the groan that passed those succulent lips of his. His tongue licked briefly across the sensitive glands before swirling around the edge of the salty, swollen head. Fenris tasted incredible and these teasing licks were driving Anders just as wild as the elf.

Fenris’ hands found his hair; the lyrium tipped fingers rubbed circles over his scalp making him moan as he let the flat of his tongue slide up the length of Fenris’ slender shaft. His left hand found the elf’s balls and cupped them gently, fondling them between his fingers, letting a warmth spell heat them slightly as his other hand rubbed the patch of rough skin just behind them. He continued licking and paying attention to the dribbling head as Fenris groaned, hips bucking as his back arched. The healer could watch the elf writhe underneath him all day long- Fenris was beautiful and addictive; one taste had been enough to captivate Anders, to make him yearn and desire him, to make him want him again and again and again. One time would never be enough.

_Finally_ he let the head slip past his lips into his mouth where his waiting tongue circled the smooth flesh. He focused on the head a while, just using shallow thrusts and gentle caresses and licks with his tongue.

“Stop _teasing!_ ” Fenris half-groaned, half-hissed, as his hands clenched Anders’ hair, pulling him down further, forcing him to swallow his cock. Lifting his hips, he pushed his long cock further down Anders’ throat. The mage swallowed a few times and then the elf’s length slid back out and he could breathe before the intruder thrust firmly back in. Anders brought a hand up to pump at the shaft, then smiled smugly as he stared up at the elf who looked the perfect picture of being utterly enraptured. His eyes were closed, his head back against the wall, his cheeks were rosy and his white hair had fallen down over much of his forehead. There was a slight sheen of sweat coating his skin, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and the corded muscles of his arms were trembling. He had a white-knuckled grip on Anders’ hair, even though he was careful not to yank too hard.  

Anders altered his grip slightly, changing the pressure with every other stroke; his other hand came to rest on the elf’s bared hip, feeling the hot, almost burning, skin beneath him. His fingers began tracing the thick lyrium line over the skin there and he couldn’t resist moaning around the length in his mouth at the tingling sensation that sent a shiver running straight up his arm. Fenris was electrifying. Addicting. Mesmerising.

His teeth grazed the underside of Fenris’ cock and the elf hissed as he jerked violently.

“No _biting,_ mage.”

Anders chuckled, staring up at him apologetically and Fenris groaned, relaxing again.

Fenris lessened his grip on the mage’s hair as Anders went back to taking his cock deep into his mouth. He stared down at the mage, enthralled as he watched him slowly move up and down, occasionally changing his pace or letting his tongue flick across the head of his cock. Begrudgingly, he had to admit the mage was _good_. He would not let such a thing show though; the blond healer was smug enough as it was.

His hot, wet mouth, his talented hands, his _eagerness_ \- it all combined to make Fenris come undone. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand such an intense sensation. Already he could feel his balls tightening and a tingle running down his spine; Anders seemed to sense it too and his thumb moved to squeeze the base of his cock, holding off his inevitable release. Fenris let out a long groan and his breathing became more ragged as he clutched the mage’s hair tighter, fisting the silky soft strands between his calloused fingers, urging the mage to speed up, to take him deeper, to end this sweet torture.

Anders drew Fenris’ cock deep into his throat before he released his grip on the base of the elf’s cock just as he let sparks fly from his fingertips. The results was Fenris coming _explosively_ into his mouth; his hot seed _poured_ down his throat as Fenris roared, his entire body rigid as the lyrium on his skin came alive. Anders milked him dry, pumping his softening cock as he eagerly lapped up the thick cream.

Fenris sighed, sated and happy as he sagged back against the wall, eyes drifting shut.

“I _told_ you I was good,” Anders stated smugly and Fenris chuckled softly, eyes still closed.

He gasped as Anders’ hands pressed down on his abdomen and let out a wave of rejuvenation magic.

“We’re not done _healing_ you,” Anders smirked.

Fenris stared at him in disbelief, and then stared at his cock in disbelief as it began to harden once again.

“You’ve been sitting on your ass for _far_ too long,” Anders purred. “Up you get, elf.”

“Do not tell _me_ what to do, _mage._ ” Fenris lunged at him, knocking him back to the ground, pinning him there.  Panting with renewed desire, he stared down at the mage, his blond hair fanned out underneath him, his amber eyes wide with surprise before they half-closed in surrender.

A slow smile started spreading on Anders’ face, until it turned into a cheeky smirk. “This brings back memories,” he chuckled.

“I seem to recall you kiss—“ Fenris’ sentence was cut off by lips pressed to his. He moaned into the mage’s mouth, encouraging a tongue to dip in to taste. He could taste himself on the mage’s tongue and he groaned loudly, shocked and aroused at the strange flavour; he had never tasted himself on another man’s lips.

“You are wearing too much,” Fenris breathed against Anders’ mouth. He felt the mage’s lips curve up into a smile.

“You’ve got work to do, then,” Anders replied cockily, smirking as an eyebrow arched playfully.

Fenris snarled and ripped the mage’s shirt clean down the middle, making the blond man gasp. He pushed his tongue deep into the mage’s mouth, devouring his answering moan, as his hands roughly unlaced the healer’s breeches, freeing his weeping cock. Fenris broke from their kiss to stare down at Anders’ leaking length and instinctively licked his lips.

“ _Taste it_ ,” the mage whispered. Fenris stared into those dark amber eyes, slightly alarmed by the idea. His breath came out in ragged pants under the dual onslaught of stress and desire. “It tastes _so good_ , Fen.”

Fenris took a shaky breath before moving from in between the mage’s legs to kneel beside him instead, not wishing the mage to suddenly ram that thick cock down his mouth. He may be willing to do _this_ but he did not trust the mage not to take advantage. He glanced nervously up at the mage who gave him an encouraging smile and a nod before he reached out and gripped the veiny shaft, pulling it closer to his mouth. He stared down at the clear drops and took a hesitant lick of them. His nose crinkled at the bitter taste but he found it strangely _erotic._ He licked across the top of the engorged head of Anders’ cock and looked up to the mage with a slight smile. He frowned slightly as Anders smirked and then spat into his palm. Suddenly, there was a hot hand slipping down his loosened breeches and down _his!–_

Anders stifled his laughter at the elf’s surprised face as he slipped a finger inside of him. But then Fenris groaned, _loudly_ , as his back arched and Anders grinned; this is what he had wanted to see again ever since that day in his clinic: the elf coming apart as he delved into that hot dark space, hearing the noises leaving his mouth as he slid his finger in and out and curled it _just so_. He slipped a second finger in and Fenris’ mouth fell open as his head lulled back, soft moans leaving his lips with every stroke of Anders’ fingers. 

He needed more.

He shoved the elf’s head to the ground, making Fenris grunt and then he yanked down his leathers. He swivelled around so that he was behind the elf, his fingers still working him, teasing him. Fenris looked beautiful with his bared ass stuck up in the air and his shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. Anders ran his other hand over the fleshy globes of Fenris’ ass before he bit down gently on the supple flesh, smiling when Fenris shuddered and moaned, his voice slightly muffled by the arm which his face was resting on. Anders ran his tongue over the place he had bitten down on, soothing the slight sting he’d caused before beginning to shift his mouth, migrating toward Fenris’ entrance; he wanted to taste _all_ of this remarkable elf. He slipped his fingers out and quickly replaced them with his tongue, making the elf jerk, before he used his hands to spread the elf’s supple cheeks apart.

Fenris bit down on his arm, stifling his groan as his body rocked back into Anders’ eager mouth. His nails dug into the broken tile on the ground as the mage’s tongue tormented him, driving him wild. Anders’ soft fingers rubbed the cheeks of his ass as the stubble around the mage’s jaw grazed across his sensitive skin, sending shivers coursing up his spine. The mage’s wicked tongue delved past the tight ring of his ass and Fenris shuddered as he cried out.

“ _Venhedis_!” he cursed before biting back down on his arm, his body trembling with want. The mage chuckled behind him, his voice reverberating through him making him groan again.

He reached down to take his aching cock in hand but Anders bit down on his ass again, causing him to hiss.

“Ah, ah, ahh,” the mage scolded. “You’re all mine. No touching, healer’s orders.”

“You are a terrible healer,” Fenris retorted.

“You won’t be saying that once I’m done _treating_ you.”

“Well hurry it _up_.”

“You mustn’t rush such a _delicate_ procedure,” Anders hummed as he went back to kissing and licking down the crack of his ass. Fenris pressed his face against his arm again, groaning through the unbearable torture. His panted breaths were disturbing the dusty ground as his chest continued to heave with the effort of not touching himself.

Anders licked inside his tight passage again, groaning loudly. “ _Maker!_ How can you be so tight and warm?” the mage moaned. Fenris blushed, glancing over his shoulder at the mage who was lost between his ass cheeks, tongue plunging into him enthusiastically.

Anders ran his hands up the backs of the elf’s thighs and over his boyish ass as he licked up the long crack one final time. He pulled back and licked his lips, humming appreciatively.

“On your back, elf. I want to see you.” To his surprise- and perhaps to the elf’s as well- Fenris turned over and stared up at him, legs hanging open. Anders groaned at the sight of Fenris’ flushed skin and dripping cock. “I’m going to actually enjoy it this time. I’m going to savour how hot you are, how tight,” he murmured breathily.

“ _In_ ,” Fenris growled, lying back on the dirty ground, lifting his hips in invitation.

Anders grabbed one of his legs, throwing it over his shoulder as he lined his cock up. He sunk into the elf with a groan of his own. “Andraste’s tits, elf, you’re even better than I remember,” he panted, as they both adjusted to the tight fit. “So hot. So snug. Maker.”

“Stop. Bloody. _Talking_. And get on with it!” Fenris bit out.

With a cheeky smile Anders drew out and slammed back into him, both of them gasping at the exquisite interlocking of their flesh. Then there was no more time for teasing, no time for soft touches or subtle movements; buried deep in the elf’s tender flesh, Anders felt a hunger burning deep inside of him, he couldn’t… he needed to _move._

He pounded into the elf, gripping Fenris’ thighs tightly as the elf’s hips rose to greet his every thrust. He lost himself in the elf, pulling back and driving in with abandon, revelling in the way Fenris’ ring of muscles clung to him as he withdrew and then caressed him as he returned. Beneath him, the elf was coming apart equally fast; his moss green eyes lost and hazed over with lust, a soft dusky flush covering his neck and chest.

Anders brought a hand up to his face, turning him so that the elf might look at him with those burning green eyes. He drew his thumb over those stern lips, so often closed and distant and now open and panting with want. The elf’s markings flashed and Fenris’ lips peeled back as his tongue swirled around the digit suggestively, dark eyes staring up at him, driving the healer to greater exertions as he pounded into him. Fenris’ teeth bit down on the soft pad of Anders’ thumb, sending a single jolt racing through him. Fenris sucked on his digit, his cheeks hollowing and lips puckering as he drew it deeper into his mouth to be caressed by the elf’s burning hot tongue.

Anders’ head fell forward, letting Fenris’ leg fall from his shoulder. “Sweet Maker, Fenris, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.”

“Yes. Do it inside me,” Fenris murmured around the digit still in his mouth, before nipping it hard.

Anders growled and pulled his thumb away as he lowered enough to kiss the elf roughly, plunging his tongue into that sinfully pleasurable mouth. Fenris ground his hips against him and he gasped into the elf’s mouth, biting down on his lip. He groaned, unable to hold still any longer. He pulled back and grabbed the elf’s ankles, holding them in the air, shifting his angle so that each thrust saw him driving right into the elf’s prostate, driving the elf wild. Immediately, Fenris’ back arched off of the floor, seeking to relieve the intense waves of fiery pleasure. Hoarse velvety cries were dragged from deep in his chest and out through his parted mouth.

Seeing a normally stoic warrior come so completely undone beneath him drove Anders to the brink. The sight of that bronzed skin, slick and shining with sweat, that deep voice cracking and pleading mumbled curses and prayers in Tevene as he thrashed violently from side to side-it was too much.

He felt the tightness of his release constricting his muscles and he knew he was out of time. In desperation he dropped the elf’s ankles and took hold of Fenris’ cock instead, sending a raw surge of magical power through his hands as he frantically began to stroke the elf to his own climax. Fenris’ markings _blazed_ as the elf cried out, screaming through his release; Anders shuddered violently as the elf’s muscles clenched around him, bringing him to his own end.

He collapsed down onto the elf’s still spasming body, murmuring endearments under his breath as he ran his fingers along a still glowing line of lyrium over the elf’s thundering heart. His eyes drooped shut as he let out a contented sigh.

 

* * *

“Andraste’s flaming ass cheeks!” the mage cried, jolting Fenris awake. Fenris stared up at the alarmed mage. “We just – next to a – Fenris! There is a _skeleton_ on the ground!” he shrieked.

Fenris glanced to his left at the old dusty bones and gave the mage a nonchalant shrug. “Your point being?”

“ _My point!?_ “ Fenris sat up on his elbows and watched the mage pace. “My point is that –“ Anders stopped, mid-stride, to stare at him before his lips pressed together and an odd sounding _snort_ escaped him as his shoulders shook. The mage was getting redder in the face as his hand clamped over his mouth, shoulders still shaking. Fenris frowned at him, not understanding and Anders’ laughter left him in a rush. “Maker’s breath!” the mage wheezed, pointing at his head. “Fenris, your _hair_.”

Fenris leaned to the side to glance at the broken mirror behind the mage to see his usually snowy hair now a dusty grey and stuck up in odd directions. He snorted and stared up at the mage. “I do not know why _you_ are laughing, mage; you have cobwebs in your hair.”

“I – _what?_ ” Anders spun to look in the mirror and let out a startled yelp. His hands flew into his hair as he frantically tried to untangle the webs while hopping up and down in panic, making the most ridiculous noises. Fenris burst out laughing at the sight, doubling over as his stomach clenched painfully.

Anders turned around slowly to stare at the elf crying with laughter, his hands stilling in his hair, and then he too started to laugh again.

Anders dashed over to the skeleton, grabbing a handful of cobwebs and tackled the elf, rubbing the sticky silk into his face; Fenris cried out and tried to fight him off. The elven warrior managed to flip the mage onto his back, pinning him down enough so that he could smear dirt across Anders’ face; he cried out, laughing still as he tried to resist the elf’s iron grip on him.

He stopped struggling and instead stared up at the elf; there were lines down his face where his tears had cleared a path through the grime on his face. Anders smiled at him and Fenris leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Perhaps next time we shouldn’t use the floor,” Anders murmured against the elf’s lips.

Fenris pulled back and quirked an eyebrow at him, a smirk curving his lips. “Perhaps.”

They stared at each other a moment longer before Fenris let him go and climbed back to his feet. Anders was just sitting up when his robes were tossed at his face.

“If you are quite done _healing_ me, you may leave,” Fenris said, humour softening his tone as he smiled at him.

Anders chuckled. “I may need to come back for… regular check-ups.”

“You know where to find me.”

Anders nodded and dressed before heading to the door.

“Mage?” Anders stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the elf. “I… apologise as well.” Ander smiled and gave a slight nod before he carried on walking, and left the mansion.


	4. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter happens one year after the last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments and bookmarks. I'm glad you like this fic. This one is extremely fluffy, very sweet and hopefully hot. 
> 
> My thanks again to Shadow and Hatse for their help with this, and Samm, I hope this finale is everything you hoped it would be.

“No, no! _You_ said ‘ _all mages deserve to be locked away,_ ’” Anders said, mimicking Fenris’ voice.

“They do.”

“So you would have me locked away?” he huffed. “Well, I hope you enjoy bleeding to death the next time you run out of elfroot!”

“I’m liable to tie you up, gag and deliver you to the Gallows myself if you don’t cease you incessant prattling, mage.”

Anders smirked but quickly covered it up. “Charming! You were a _slave_ , Fenris; I can’t believe how hard you’re riding me on this!”

“This is not something I can get behind you on,” Fenris replied, fighting to keep his face straight.

“I bet that’s exactly where the elf usually is,” Varric muttered under his breath. “Riding him on that. Hard,” he added, making Aveline choke; they both coughed loudly when the mage and the elf glanced at them curiously.

“Right! If you boys are done bickering, I think it’s time to head back to the Hanged Man for a drink.”

“Oh, I uhh, can’t Varric,” Anders stammered. “I’ve got a patient to see.”

“Is that right? Can’t this _one_ patient wait a little longer? Surely one drink won’t hurt, Blondie.”

“No, no, I really must get back to the clinic to lend a helping hand; they get very distraught when I am late.”

Fenris cleared his throat loudly, shooting the mage a glare. “I cannot attend either, Varric. I am doing some mercenary work this afternoon; apparently they have need of my sword. I am quite certain I will be _fighting_ for the rest of the day and much of the night.”

“Yes, my patient requires an overnight stay in fact. I really must be off,” Anders added hurriedly before dashing off; the elf also disappeared into the crowd in the opposite direction.

Varric shook his head as he pushed the door to the Hanged Man open. “You know, it’s almost insulting that they think we don’t know.”

“I’m just glad they’re no longer arguing, at least not really,” Aveline mused.

“I don’t know how much longer I can pretend not to see the elephant in the room.”

“The pachyderm Varric. The pachyderm. We agreed to not call it what it is."

“It's grey and has a long nose. And one of these days, I'll have enough, and turn around and say 'hey, this is an elephant and we all know you two are boinking.”

“Just let them be. And the elephant is nice, just ignore him."

“Hmph. The minute I start calling him Roger, he's out." 

* * *

 

Fenris lit the candles in a rush, nearly knocking one over. He cursed his clumsiness; he was not usually so ungainly. _Normally_ he was agile, graceful, and well-balanced. Then again there was nothing _normal_ about the state of things now. He was in a _relationship_ with a mage, and not just any mage either, an abomination. But that wasn’t all he was, Anders was a man, a healer, a caring, kind, _cheeky_ sod. Because of that mage he was lighting scented candles and preparing a bubble bath. It was absurd. Even more absurd was that he was _nervous_ , he was worried he would mess something up, forget something or do something wrong. He hoped the mage liked what he had planned, he knew he probably would but he still felt trepidation crawling across his skin.

It was strange how things had turned out. Although Hawke had been the reason they had all come together, in his death their odd group had become even closer. They often picked up jobs that Luca would have done if he were still alive, anything to try to help the city that Hawke had come to care for, to love.

He made the finishing touches to the bathroom, smiling broadly as he breathed in the strong vanilla aroma filling the steamy room. Then there was a knock at the door and he jumped, knocking one of the candles to the ground; the glass container shattered, sending shards of glass scattering across the ground. He cursed as he frantically gathered up the broken pieces. _Fool_ , he chastised himself, _you are getting worked up for no reason._ He grabbed the final glass piece and rose to his feet.

“Fenris?”

He jumped, an undignified yelp escaped his lips and one of the glass shards fell from his hands; his attempt to catch it failed miserably and he ended up dropping every single piece all over again.

His shoulders sagged in defeat as he looked up at the smirking mage and smiled. “Happy birthday?”

Anders grinned. “You got me a broken candle for my birthday?”

Fenris snorted. “It was not supposed to be broken but nor is that your _only gift.”_

"And the rest of my gift was to be…?" the healer enquired with a raised eyebrow.

“A _surprise_ ,” Fenris replied firmly, gently kicking the broken glass to the side of the room as he cleared his throat. This was not going as he had planned.

Anders peeked over his shoulder, smirking. “You ran a bath. A _bubble_ bath.”

“It’s for you.”

“ _Just_ me?”

Fenris smirked back at him. “Of course not.”

Anders grinned. “Well then, we don’t want it getting cold, do we?” He stepped forward, shrugging out of his robes. He leaned into Fenris, smiling. “Thank you,” he whispered as his lips grazed his cheek before kissing him lightly. Fenris swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling a blush spread on his cheeks.

He turned just as the healer lifted a leg, dipping it into the water with a happy sigh, his manhood handing low between his legs. The blond winked at him before slipping fully into the water, moaning softly.

“You make a good bubble bath, Fen.”

“I am glad you approve.”

“I’d approve a lot more if you were in here with me.”

Fenris nodded and slipped out of his clothes, feeling oddly self-conscious as the healer eyed him hungrily. _It is nothing he hasn’t seen before_ , he scolded himself.

He too, hopped into the bath, sighing as the heat enveloped him, warming him to his bones, relieving some of the nervous tension that the planning of this night had caused in him. He leaned back against the far end of the tub and Anders did the same; Fenris kept his knees close to his chest, still feeling nervous about taking the lead with such _affectionate_ activities, whereas the mage was completely at ease, legs sprawled out in front of him.

“Relax, Fen,” Anders said through a smile, as he moved forward in the tub to run his fingers up Fenris’ feet, making him shiver. Fenris allowed the mage to pull his legs onto his lap, relaxing slightly as Anders ran his hands up and down the tops of his feet and lower legs. He focused on his breathing, closing his eyes as the healer continued to smooth his hands across his skin. “That’s it,” he murmured.

Anders’ fingers suddenly ghosted over his ankle and Fenris shuddered violently as a high pitched laugh left his mouth. Anders stared at him, bewildered, before he grinned mischievously. “You’re ticklish!”

“No I’m not,” Fenris replied in a rush, tucking his legs close to his chest again, covering his ankles with his hands.

“You _are!_ ” Anders laughed. “I mean, I knew you were sensitive…” He waggled his eyebrows. “But this is just _delightful_.”

“You’d do well to forget learning such a thing, mage,” Fenris growled.

Anders pushed his bottom lip out in a pout. “But it's my birthday... you’re not threatening me on my birthday, are you?”

Fenris blushed.

“May I touch you again?”

“It should be _me_ touching _you._ ”

“Well, in _that_ case, go right ahead.” Anders dangled his foot in Fenris’ face.

Fenris tentatively took hold of the wiggly-toed foot, eyeing it warily. He began to rub his thumbs along the arch of Anders’ foot before looking up at the healer. “Like this?” Anders moaned and nodded his head, his arms resting along the rim of the tub as his head fell back. Encouraged by the healer’s reaction, Fenris dug his thumbs a little harder on the ball of his foot, making Anders sigh.

“Circular motions,” Anders murmured. “Small little circles,” he moaned. Fenris obeyed, working his way up the foot. He let the lyrium in his hands flare, flooding Anders’ foot with warmth as he worked his thumbs up between the man’s toes.

Anders groaned loudly. “Yesss,” he hissed, a smile stretching across his face. Encouraged by the healer’s reaction, Fenris moved his fingers up Anders’ toes, making the mage whimper as his hands clenched the side of the tub.

“Maker, Fen, don’t stop.” Fenris continued his ministrations up and down each of Anders’ toes and along the ball of his foot. Anders was panting raggedly, and his hips began to move up and down as he continued to groan loudly. Fenris was mesmerised by the reaction; tentatively he licked the pad of Ander’s big toe; the mage’s eyes flew open and he gasped, before falling back and moaning throatily.

“Yes, more of that. Oh Maker, yes,” he groaned as Fenris licked down between two toes, flicking his tongue along the sensitive point where they joined. He sucked on the pad of the big toe again, grazing his tongue over the delicate soft skin; the mage shuddered violently as a groan rumbled out of his mouth.

“Please, please, Fen, I’m so hard right now,” the mage whimpered.

Fenris looked up at his face, scrunched up in pleasure and pain, bliss and torment, thrown back against the tub’s edge as his hands gripped the sides of the bath ever tighter in an attempt not to touch himself. Fenris moaned softly; his mage had never looked so exquisite.

Fenris let that foot fall gently back into the water and Anders growled in frustration. Fenris picked up his other foot and began to massage him as he had done before, allowing his lyrium to warm the wet and wrinkled skin. The water was lapping at the baths’ edge, displaced by the mage’s ever-moving hips; it tickled his stomach with each small wave, teasing him like a lover’s gentle caress. He brought the healer’s toe into his mouth and sucked on it long and hard, driving the mage frantic with need. Pleas were leaving his lips amidst his moaning and groaning, which made Fenris’ pride and pleasure soar.

Finally satisfied the mage was just one more frayed nerve ending away from going completely insane, Fenris ran his hands up the mage’s slim calves, kneading the flesh slowly. He circled the mage’s knees lightly as Anders had done many times to him in the past year. He wanted to try something a little different, and so, he took a deep breath and dipped his head under the water to plant gentle kisses and nips across the inside of the mage’s knee. He could feel Anders shiver under his touch before he surfaced again, flicking his snowy hair back away from his forehead with a hand before wiping the rivulets of water off of his face. Anders stared at him, eyes dark, teeth sunk deep into his bottom lip and Fenris smiled before dunking back under.

Anders moaned loudly, he was usually quite loud in bed but this, this was driving him mad! Watching Fenris sucking on his toes had made restraining himself from leaping at the elf and devouring that devious mouth of his very hard, but watching him dunk under the water to lick and suck and nip his way up Anders' thigh only to surface gasping for breath, rosy cheeked and dripping wet was driving him positively insane. And yet he couldn’t look away.

His cock was _aching_ , his balls were wrinkled and heavy from being in the water for so long and he would have been cold if his body wasn’t so completely flushed with arousal. Suddenly, that wickedly sharp tongue licked along the underside of Anders’ cock; he cried out, hips buckling violently. The elf surfaced with a feral grin on his face before he sucked in a lungful of air and dived back under the water to swallow the tip of his cock. A tongue slid around the head and then Anders groaned loudly as the elf blew bubbles out of his mouth over the sensitive tip.

The elf continued to suck, lick, and blow bubbles over his cock as those lyrium lit hands of his groped, squeezed, stroked and cupped every sensitive area they could find. Anders had never been so wound up with desire and yet so completely relaxed. The result was his body shuddering, shivering, spasming and twitching uncontrollably as endless moans and cries left his mouth.

Fenris surfaced again and Anders flooded his ears with pleas, begging for release. The mage was trembling and barely able to put a full sentence together, too crazed by lust to think coherently. Fenris cupped the panting mage’s cheek and pulled him in for a kiss, gentle and reassuring at first, as if promising he would give him what he wanted, and then more desperate and needy as hands roamed over his skin, tugged at his hair and scratched down his back. He groaned into the other man’s mouth, sliding his fingers through those silk blond strands. The mage’s creamy skin was always so soft, with just a sprinkling of golden hair covering his arms, legs, chest and navel, trailing down to the slightly thicker hair around his cock; he ran his hands over his body, feeling every soft inch of him, and then his hand tightened around Anders’ length and he began to tug and stroke in earnest, done with his teasing games.

He watched the mage, their faces almost touching, their lips ghosting over each other’s as they panted while Fenris stroked him toward his release. Long lashes covered those swirling amber depths, pupils blown wide with desire. Water sloshed around them, spilling over the edge as Fenris increased his pace and swallowed the mage’s groans with his lips. He swept his tongue through Anders’ mouth, tasting him, breathing him in, that sweet smell of elfroot and enticing blends of woodsy herbs. His fingers played with his balls- cupping, stroking, fondling them- as he altered his grip, twisting slightly with each stroke. His thumb slipped across Anders’ swollen head before he stroked back down along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft.

It didn’t take long for the mage to come undone. Fenris watched him go rigid, seeing him inhale sharply before he grunted through his release, his eyes rolling back in his head as he shuddered violently. Fenris kissed down the side of his face and neck, whispering soothing words into his ear.

Anders wrapped his arms around Fenris’ neck and kissed him, pouring all of his love and devotion into it.

The elf snuggled up against his chest, running those long slender fingers over his body. They stayed like that until the water chilled too much.

“We should get out,” Fenris suggested, a slight shiver running through him.

“I don’t want to leave just yet,” Anders murmured softly.

The healer let magic pool at the tips of his fingers before submerging it under the cool water to heat it up. Soon the water was bubbling, with steam rising from the surface, and Fenris added more bubble bath with a slight blush.

“I like the bubbles too,” Anders admitted with a smirk. They both leaned back, the elf coming to rest with his back against Anders’ chest, his head buried in the crook of Anders’ neck. “Much better,” Anders sighed happily. One arm was spread across the edge of the tub, while his other held Fenris around the waist, running small circles across his slim hip.

“So… as it’s my birthday does that mean I get _anything_ I want?” Anders asked suggestively.

Fenris chuckled, shoulders shaking gently. “That depends, what is it you want?”

“It’s very simple, Fenris,” he whispered in a low seductive whisper into Fenris’ ear, as the mage snaked the hand resting on the tub’s edge down below the bubbles surrounding them. “I want to make you cum.” Fenris shivered as Anders’ long supple fingers, startling cool in comparison to the warm water found Fenris’ semi-hard cock, and wrapped a teasing finger around him. One finger at a time, torturously slowly, until the mage’s talented hand was fisted tight around him. By the time the mage’s grip was firmed up so was Fenris. He relaxed against the mage’s chest, watching as Anders ever so slowly began to move his hand up and down, stirring the water just enough to begin to pop the bubbles. Every stroke popped more of the fluffy white bubbles, exposing more and more of Fenris’ lyrium-lined form to the healer’s eyes.

“Maker, you’re ridiculously beautiful, you know?” Anders panted into Fenris’ long sensitive ear, before drawing the point into his mouth and suckling on it like it was a child’s sweet. Fenris’ eyes crossed and he let out a dark deep moan of pleasure at the mage’s continued attentions.

His breath became little more than short ragged pants as those soft fingers expertly worked his length, knowing just where to linger, just the perfect grip and speed. Fenris slid his fingers up and down the mage’s toned thighs, digging his nails in when Anders swept across his throbbing head. Anders’ cock had hardened again at his back, poking him proudly; he could feel it twitch every time a groan slipped past Fenris’ lips. The mage continued to draw the tip of his ear in and out of his mouth before momentarily sliding down the length to dip into his ear canal. He sucked and nibbled on his ear lobe, making a groan rumble through Fenris’ chest once more. And then the mage was sucking the point again, slow and steady, in time with his slowly moving hand below the waters.

“Fen, I need to be buried in you,” Anders breathed against his ear, his hot breath causing him to shudder and moan.

“Take me,” Fenris pleaded breathlessly.

Fenris lifted himself up and Anders lined up his cock, slowly Fenris sat back down on it, groaning loudly as he was stretched and filled. He’d bottomed enough recently that taking Anders wasn’t too painful without preparation but there was still enough of a stretch to make him pant and groan. Anders was breathless behind him, moaning and clutching his hips tightly in the effort not to move yet.

Fenris grunted with a nod of his head and began to move; Anders did the same, snapping his hips up to him with each drop and fall of the elf’s hips. He was consumed by heat: the sloshing steamy water, Fenris hot back sliding up and down his chest, and his cock buried deep inside that tight, hot passage, squeezed like a vice by burning hot muscles with each thrust. He gripped Fenris’ hips for dear life as his toes curled at the end of the tub. His skin was burning, his bloody boiling, his nerve endings singing in pleasure.

Their pace picked up and the waters sloshed violently over the side, leaving Fenris’ cock standing proud and out of the water with each upward thrust. He whimpered as the cool air enveloped his cock only for it to be submerged once more in the steamy waters. Anders was panting in his ear, groaning every time Fenris took him down to the hilt again. The mage was hitting that deep dark spot of pleasure with every stroke and it made Fenris shudder with want every single time. He wrapped a hand around his aching length, unable to ignore the neglected organ a moment more. His grip was firm, tight, assured, his thrusts frantic, pleading, desperate. He needed release. He needed this sweet agony to end.

The mage gripped the base of his shaft and Fenris moaned in frustration. “Not yet, love. Soon, but not yet,” Anders whispered, his breath ghosting across his ear sending shivers all the way to his toes.

Fenris groaned as he turned his head to suckle on the mage’s earlobe, drawing it into his mouth to tug on it gently. The mage ground his hips in a circular motion, driving him mad, stretching him further; somehow Anders had found a way to bury himself even deeper inside of him.

“ _Please,_ ” Fenris pleaded, begged, cried. It became a chant on his lips. Anders moaned and released his iron grip on the base of Fenris’ cock.

“Yes, _now –“_  

Fenris didn’t need to be told twice. He increased the pace of his thrusts and strokes and the mage did the same, a hand coming to cup his balls to help him along. Fire tingled down his spine and his balls tightened almost painfully; he felt Anders’ cock jump inside him and then the mage was groaning loudly and white hot seed was being pumped deep inside of him. He came with a roar, his entire body shaking as his own seed spurted out of the head of his cock all over his stomach and chest.

Fenris fell back against his human lover, panting, and Anders wrapped both of his arms around him, holding him close as he caught his own breath. He nuzzled the elf’s soft white hair, taking a deep breath of that unique scent of his.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly as he kissed the elf’s cheek.

Fenris smiled, eyes still closed. “That was just the appetiser.”

Anders grinned. “Well then, I’d like my main course, please.”

Fenris chuckled and opened those big green eyes of his and looked at him. “Patience.”

Anders smirked. “You can’t actually walk yet, can you?”

Fenris snorted. “No.”

* * *

Anders ran his hands through those irresistibly soft locks as the elf ever-so-slowly dried him off; they were back in the elf’s room with the fire crackling away. Fenris brought the towel up his calf, having spent time patting his feet dry first. The towel was almost as soft as the elf’s hair as it caressed up his legs, making him shiver. Once each area was patted dry Fenris planted a kiss there, such a delicate and sweet gesture and one that had Anders’ cock twitching toward hard. Fenris spent extra time at his knee, licking, kissing and nipping the oddly sensitive spot before moving up his thighs, alternating between each leg with the towel and his mouth.

The elf completely ghosted over his cock, leaving it still dripping with water; instead he dried off his stomach and chest, again, ignoring his nipples. The light touches were infuriating; he was already greedy for more but it was the sweetest thing Fen had ever done for him. Usually it was Anders leading the romantic activities with Fenris following, albeit begrudgingly so. Tonight it was different, tonight was all about what Anders wanted. It was _nice._ He spent so much of his days at the clinic helping others, the rest of his time was out with Varric _trying_ to help the city and his evenings were with Fenris pleasing _him_ with a healthy dose of teasing.

Fenris dried his neck, their lips just inches away once again, their hot breath mingling together. Just as Anders leaned forward to taste those lips Fenris smiled and pulled back and turned Anders around and began drying his back instead. He sighed but relaxed as the fluffy towel caressed his back. Fenris licked down his spine and a quiet moan slipped out of Anders’ mouth.

He heard Fenris lower back to his knees behind him, and his entire body buzzed with the thrill of what the elf was about to do. Fenris’ tongue slipped lower, over the curve of his ass until he slid it down the crack. Anders put an arm out to instinctively brace himself against the wall near Fenris’ bed, his knees already starting to shake in anticipation.

Fenris let the towel drop to the ground and instead grabbed both of the mage’s cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze before pulling them apart. The groan that left Anders’ mouth when Fenris swirled his tongue over that pink pucker was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, it was deep and guttural; a timbre he was not used to hearing from the mage. He teased the edge, changing his licks from flat and long to sharp and hard as he continued to tease his entrance. Anders shuddered and half collapsed down onto the bed as Fenris’ tongue sunk into him and writhed around his tight hole. The mage was now on his knees, half on the bed half off of it as he panted roughly, groaning into the bed sheets.

Anders fisted the smoky grey bed covers, his fingers curling and tightening around the dark fabric; Fenris’ tongue and lips and hands were frying the nerves around his ass, making him lose his mind as wave after wave of endless pleasure washed over him, inundating his mind. He tried to beg Fenris for more but only groans left his mouth as the elf continued to tease him with just the very tip of his tongue.

Fenris pulled back, just long enough for him to suck his long, dusky finger before he placed it back onto Anders’ quivering pucker. He slid his finger around that needy little hole, and Anders trembled beneath him, hips buckling back into his light touch.

Anders moaned his name. “ _Please_ ,” he begged.

“What is it you want, Anders?” Fenris asked as he circled that pink little star. 

The mage groaned. “You know what!”

“Do I?”

“Maker, Fenris, please,” he panted, voice cracking.

“Tell me,” Fenris growled.

“I want those inside me, Fenris. Now.”

“What inside of you, mage?”

“Your fingers! Your damned - _lovely_ \- lyrium-lined fingers, please!”

Fenris chuckled and slipped the tip of his index in, and moved it in a tiny circle around the edge of that tight muscle.

“The whole thing, Fenris!” the mage squawked, his voice shaking.

Very slowly, Fenris slipped his finger in, one phalange at a time, watching in awe as his finger slowly disappeared into the mage’s beautiful behind. Anders groaned again when Fenris let his finger curl ever so slightly once it was half way in, stretching that thick wall of muscle ever so slightly more. Anders’ muscles clamped down around his digit, sucking his finger further in. Fenris gripped the mage’s hip, his knees going weak at the feel of his finger lost inside the mage and the chorus of pleas and groans leaving the mage’s mouth, muffled in the mussed up sheets of his bed.

“ _Anders_ ,” he moaned.

The mage lifted his head to look back at him, “More,” he breathed, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Fenris slowly pulled back his finger, watching the muscle clench around the digit, desperate for it to stay. Fenris slipped a second digit in, just as slowly and began to move them in and out, scissoring them every third thrust. Anders quivered with each stroke, moving back to meet him, begging with his whole body for more contact.

“Shh,” Fenris tried to soothe him, a small, pleased smile curving his lips. “Not so fast, pet. I plan to enjoy this.”

A moan answered, him, long, drawn-out, and Anders casting him a pleading look over his shoulder. "Please." He lowered his shoulders on the bed, arching his back even further. "Deeper. Before I die."

Fenris slipped a third finger in, the mage trembled beneath him, head lifting as a groan left his lips from the fullness. Fenris drew them back out, twisting his wrist slightly before plunging them back in. He let his fingers curl for the briefest of seconds, touching the sweet spot, making the mage underneath him bite the pillow in order to stifle the choked, begging moans that were escaping him. Another flick across that spot had the mage jerking forward.

"Do you like this?" Fenris' voice dropped to a low, intimate burr. He repeated the caress, only giving the mage enough to tease him.

"Maker's balls, _yes_!" Anders moaned. "More, Fenris, Please. Stop teasing."

“Or what, mage?”

"Or I'll..." Anders' speech trailed off into a panting, mewling groan, as Fenris rubbed against his pleasure spot more insistently. “Oh, Maker, yes. Do that again."

Fenris slid a single digit over it, back and forth, over and over, until Anders was letting out one long groan after the other, his legs trembling with want. Fenris changed his motions, circling that sweet little place, the mage’s hips buckled and he sobbed out his frustrations.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged through weak little moan.

Fenris could feel the mage’s body approaching release, so close. He pulled his fingers back, withdrawing them completely. Anders cried out, thrashing uselessly on the bed. Fenris leaned over him, running his hands up his creamy back, kissing him softly.

“Shhh, soon,” he promised the sobbing mage.

Anders was vaguely aware of Fenris’ soft touches, of his whispered words but the fog of desire had overridden most of his senses. The popping of a bottle was sharp, loud, and drew his focus back a little. He gasped as the cold liquid made contact with his back. He groaned as Fenris’ rough hands, surprisingly gentle, rubbed the oil in, digging out the knots in his back. His body had been so tense, coiled tight, ready to explode with his release, but those hands -firm yet gentle -were slowly making him relax again, with soft moans leaving his sore-from-biting-on-them-lips.

Fenris slowly made his way down Anders’ back, _very_ slowly. The elf left no part of his back unoiled, unmassaged. Anders could only lay there, a puddle of liquid arousal, lost to his senses, lost to Fenris.

 _Finally_ the elf poured the oil down the crack of his ass and Anders gasped, back arching as the liquid ran down and over such a sensitive place. Fenris’ fingers worked it in again, driving him half-mad with his endless teasingly soft touches, just circling his desperate pucker. He groaned as the elf went back to spreading the lubricant over his ass cheeks, rubbing those fleshly globes so deep it almost hurt. And then Fenris was moving down the backs of his thighs, making him bury his head in his arms in annoyance.

Suddenly the elf grabbed his hips, flipped him over and then pushed him backwards on the bed. He stared up at those dark as night eyes, hooded by those thick lashes of his. _Fenris_. His heart jumped at the sight of him every single time he saw him. It didn’t matter if he had seen him just seconds ago, Fenris was always such a beautiful sight his heart was never quite sure what to do with the information that his brain was overwhelmed with. The fire blazed behind him, casting his features in shadow, only the moonlight shining in through the window highlighted Fenris’ long nose, full lips and pointed ears.

Fenris smiled down at the panting blond below him, savouring the look of his flushed skin and the sheen of sweat covering it. The mage’s lip was swollen and slightly bloody where he had bitten down on it so much. Fenris leaned down over him, pressing his body to him before pulling him into a deep kiss. Anders yielded to him immediately, opening his mouth willingly, welcoming Fenris’ tongue into his mouth. The healer’s hands slipped up his back, following the trail of lyrium along his spine before splaying out across his shoulders, one finding his hair, the other cupping his face, stroking his cheek softly. Fenris tilted the mage’s head back and his tongue dipped further into that delicious mouth of his.

He moved down to the healer’s neck, sucking and kissing on his pulse point, feeling that frantic beat below his soft skin that matched his own thudding heart. He moved across the hollow of his neck, licking it slowly, watching the mage’s eyes darken further to the colour of burnished amber. Fenris planted gentle kisses down his chest, running his free hand up the mage’s toned torso. His tongue flicked across a peach-coloured nipple and Anders arched his chest up into his mouth, eagerly moaning.

Everywhere their flesh touched his skin burned, but it was an addictive heat, a fire coursing through his veins, he couldn’t get enough of that warmth. It had been the first thing he had enjoyed after Luca died: feeling _warm_ again. He had gone from simply tolerating the mage’s company, to craving, it to enjoying it, to not being able to live without it.  His tongue dipped into the mage’s navel, lavishing it with a long lick around the edge, enjoying the mage’s bucking hips, held down by the weight of his body pressed over every inch of him.

At last he reached the mage’s hard, dripping cock. He licked those clear drops from the top, sliding his tongue along the slit; Anders hissed his pleasure out though his teeth, hips flying up to greet his mouth. Fenris chuckled and then took the whole of the healer’s shaft into his mouth; the groan that answered him was so beautiful, it tumbled out of Anders’ mouth and crashed over Fenris like a wave. He sucked on his cock, letting it glide over his tongue to the back of his throat.

Anders gripped Fenris’ hair, holding onto it for dear life as his head rocked back and forth on Anders’ cock. He tried to formulate words of praise, of worship, but only gargled moans left his lips. There was only the crackle of the fire, the panting of his breath and the endless sucking noises from the elf devouring his cock. He slid his fingers through the elf’s soft hair to his ear, trailing a digit up to the tip, relishing the feel of the elf shivering around his cock still buried in Fenris’ mouth.

His hips were writhing uncontrollably beneath the warrior’s firm grip and he could feel his release nearing. Fenris could too. The elf’s mouth came off of his cock with a loud pop and Anders wailed his frustration.

“I don’t think you quite understand birthdays, Fenris,” he groused, panting heavily.

Fenris let out a throaty chuckle. “You will thank me soon enough,” he replied smugly.

“If I don’t lose my fucking mind before then,” he huffed.

Fenris leaned over him again, pushing his legs up before his hands came to rest on his hips. “I won’t let that happen,” Fenris said seriously, his voice a deep rumbling baritone.

“Then fuck me already.”

“No,” the elf answered stubbornly, making Anders groan and grind his hips against the warrior leaning over him. “I will not _fuck_ you, not today.”

Anders frowned, not understanding and the elf pulled back until he was standing again, smirking down at him. Then, brutally slowly, the elf’s cock pushed into him and Anders cried out in ecstasy as that slender cock slipped deep inside of him. Fenris leaned back over him, running his tongue up Anders’ chest, kissing him softly. _Oh_. He suddenly realised what the elf meant by not _fucking_.

The elf’s thrusts into him were slow, gentle, sensual. Fenris’ eyes never left his as he continued to kiss and lick his chest, and there was such a look of adoration in his eyes that Anders couldn’t help but whimper. He wrapped his legs around the elf’s slender hips, pulling him closer as he linked his arms around his neck and threaded them through his soft hair. Fenris wrapped firm fingers around his cock and Anders shuddered, his breath leaving him in a rush as his head tilted back. The elf stroked him slowly, in time with those gentle thrusts of his, the lyrium on his hands igniting on every second stroke, sending electric shivers up Anders’ spine.

“ _Oh, Fenris_ ,” Anders breathed. Fenris smiled against the hollow of the healer’s neck before he swept his tongue across his warm skin, breathing in the scent of the bubble bath still clinging to the mage. Anders leaned up, capturing his lips and Fenris gasped slightly at the tenderness of it, the devotion behind it… and something else too. Something neither of them had yet voiced. Their tongues danced languidly, dipping back and forth, advancing and retreating. Fenris swept his tongue over the roof of Anders’ mouth and the mage moaned softly. Fenris could listen to those quiet moans and whimpers all day long and never tire of the sound.

Fenris flicked his thumb over the head of Anders’ weeping length and the mage shuddered under him, the muscles of that tight, dark passage clamping down on his cock like a vice, inviting him in deeper, begging him to stay longer. Fenris groaned in answer, jerking his hips until he hit that spot deep inside; Anders cried out, lips parted wide and head back in rapture. Fenris did it again, rocking against that wonderful little spot, savouring that expression of pure bliss on Anders’ face.

Anders arched up, desperate to latch onto the elf, needing him closer, wanting to be devoured by that mouth again. His cries were swallowed by the elf’s hot mouth as they both clung to each other, enveloped by the heat of their love making. Fenris picked up the pace of his thrusts, plunging into his lover with quick short strokes as the fingers fisting his cock followed suit. Anders rocked up to him with each thrust, his legs, still locked around the elf’s slim hips, pulling him in deeper.

He could tell the mage below him wouldn’t last much longer; his own legs were weakening from the waves of pleasure rushing through his body all the way down to his toes. He leaned heavily against the mage, his tongue lost in Anders’ mouth, one hand holding his neck up, the other fisting the mage’s cock with increasing speed. They were gasping against each other’s mouths, breathing each other in- Fenris was almost dizzy from the lack of air. The mage arched up, his body tensing; Fenris opened his eyes, his lashes tickling past the mage’s cheeks; the mage’s eyes were squeezed shut as he tried desperately to hold on a little longer.

“I want to watch you cum, Anders. Open your eyes,” he commanded.

His eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide with lust, slightly fogged over from the euphoric sensations overwhelming his body and soul.  They locked onto Fenris’ and focused; Fenris shivered at the sight of those eyes boring into him. He thrust hard and deep into the mage, making sure his cock slid over that sensitive place and the mage’s cock jumped in his hand. And then Anders was cumming, hard and loud, crying out against Fenris’ mouth as his body quaked. The healer’s legs locked around him, holding him deep inside of him. His inner walls squeezed Fenris tighter than he thought possible, the mage’s hands fisted his hair and gripped his neck, nails digging in, but those eyes never left his. Fenris milked him dry as he moved again deeper into that shuddering channel, coming to his own end just seconds after the mage. Anders swallowed his grunts, eyes still staring into his, unable to look away.

They kissed again, both of them still quivering from the aftermath of their releases. The mage’s long fingers stroked his hair, his other hand running along a swirl of lyrium over his shoulder blade. Fenris stroked the mage’s cheek, his other hand travelling up Anders’ torso, stopping over his heart, feeling it pounding under the tips of his fingers.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, holding each other, kissing softly, refusing to let each other go. Anders wanted to tell him… to say those three little words. He _needed_ to say them. Fenris seemed to sense his apprehension and broke their kiss to stare down at him. He smiled that heart stopping, breath hitching, dazzling smile of his.

“The rest of your present is in the other room,” he whispered.

Anders cocked a brow curiously and started to grin. “What is it?”

The elf smirked. “I am not saying.”

Anders snorted. “I suppose I have to walk _all the way_ to the other room for it?”

The elf nodded, green eyes playful. Anders chuckled. “I don’t want to move just yet.”

“In other words, you can’t walk yet.”

Anders laughed and Fenris kissed him again.

* * *

When Anders finally disentangled himself from the bedsheets he padded over to the door across the corridor, wrapped in one of Fenris’ silk robes. He glanced over his shoulder at the elf leaning in the doorway behind him, nodding for him to open the door in front of him. He felt a thrill shoot through him as he reached out to turn the door handle. And then the door swung open.

The mage _squealed_ in delight, and rushed into the room.

Fenris followed after him, smiling smugly. He had seen the bedraggled little thing cowering out in the rain, back against a wall as two Templars threw stones at it, laughing. When one of them had moved to kick the little fella into a puddle Fenris had taken action, rushing in, glowing and throwing them both back on their asses. Fenris had snarled at them and the cowardly bastards had scrambled to their feet and fled. The kitten had then meowed up at him with big amber eyes. Only then had Fenris realised he had no idea what to do with a kitten. He had tried to simply leave it; it was not his place to interfere with nature. But the raggedy little fur ball had followed him, refusing to leave him alone. It had reminded him of Anders at first, how the mage would just show up to ‘treat him’. And then he had remembered that it was the mage’s birthday soon.

He walked into the room; Anders was on the ground, a huge grin lighting his face as the little kitten climbed over his lap, purring contentedly. Anders beamed up at him. “Fenris, he’s perfect.”

“ _She_ ,” Fenris corrected with a smirk.

Anders cooed down to the kitten, stroking her fondly. “A she…”

“Dare I ask if you have thought of a name yet?” Fenris asked as he came and crouched next to the mage, allowing the golden furred fluff ball to sniff his hand.

Anders lifted the kitten to his face, nuzzling it. “I think… I’ll call her Lady Foo-foo Fluffy Paws.” He beamed at him.

Fenris winced, rubbing his eyes as he let out a long drawn out sigh. “Why am I not surprised?” he said with a exasperated half-smile.

“I love her, Fenris. Thank you.” The mage leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

Anders broke their kiss, those bright amber eyes stared at him and the mage swallowed thickly. “I… I love you too.”

Fenris’ stomach flipped and his chest tightened. He let out a ragged breath as he stared at the ground, his eyes hidden by the fringe of his hair. He had known this was coming, had known it needed to be said… He clenched his fists in his lap. Cursing himself a fool for _still_ not being able to say those damn words.

Anders cupped the elf’s cheek and Fenris’ slightly panicked eyes snapped up to him. “I know you do too,” he whispered, smiling softly. “You don’t have to say it.”

Fenris lifted his hand to Anders’ and leaned into his touch. The elf sighed softly and swallowed a few times. “I never said it to Hawke,” he quietly said, chest heaving. “And he—“ He swallowed down a lump in his throat, choking at the words ‘died’. He shook his head, scowling. “I will not make that mistake again.” He forced himself to look at the mage. “I…” He took a deep breath, steeling himself, “love you.”

Laughter bubbled out of Anders' mouth and he kissed him fiercely, pulling him close and all of Fenris’ apprehension vanished as he melted into the healer's embrace.

“ _T_ _hat_ is the best present you could have given me,” the mage said against his lips. “I never thought you could be so romantic, Fenris.” He smirked, eyes bright and playful.

Fenris smirked back at him. “This is all _your_ fault.”


End file.
